My Unforgivable Work-Wear Mishap

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It has taken 4 years, but I have finally made an unforgivable mistake in my professional career. Everyone is guilty of a couple small errors here and there. Not one person can say every minute of their employment has been profitable for the company the work for, that much is true. However, out of the thousands of dollars I have cost my employers in change orders and corrections needed for past projects, what I have done today ranks at the top of the slip-ups I have made since graduating college.

The time is 5:30 a.m. I roll out of bed, brush my teeth, grab my lunch that was packed the night before, kiss my wife, and I’m out the door on my way to the gym. Anyone who has met me within the past year knows I am a huge advocate for the morning workout. Experts across the world agree that the morning workout is far superior to the evening workout counterpart, and that has been well-documented in opinion blogs across the world. The downfall of the morning workout is it involves a certain amount of preparation the night before to execute the next day without error. Last night, I fell short on that front. I remembered my lunch, my cold brew, and my bag which contained my work clothes (light colored khakis, a blue company golf shirt, socks and a belt.) What I failed to remember was proper footwear. So here I sit, in business casual and bright red Nike hyperdunks.

There is a laundry list of things I am ashamed of in my life, ranging from wet dreams during sleepovers at a friend’s house to not knowing how to tie a full Windsor but this has taken the top spot. It is 8:15 a.m. and already two of my closest colleagues have pointed out the flaw. I walked into the building with one of them, and as I upped the pace to take a few steps ahead of her before opening the door for her, she commented something along the lines of “Wow, those shoes make you so fast!” Absolutely brutal start to what is bound to be a disaster of a work day.

I can deal with some flak from my work family. We are all good people and rib each other constantly. It is one of the many benefits for working for a smaller company. That being said, today was not the day to be wearing basketball shoes to work. A vendor is coming in to visit today. We are looking to bring them on board for a variety of RFPs we’ve received for projects that could take advantage of their product. How is anyone expected to take me seriously when I am caught halfway between finalizing a six-digit proposal and crossing you up in men’s league? Like, yeah, they probably want the business. Money is money. But the dude must be asking himself, “Why on earth am I sitting across a conference table trying to sell myself to someone resembling an 8th grader dressing up for his homecoming soccer game?” Seriously, that is the most lenient parallel I can draw to this situation.

Honestly, if I didn’t work 35 minutes away, I would probably drive home and deal with the repercussions for showing up late. But my work-wife’s last day at the company is today, and I cannot afford to have to work late when everyone is cutting out early for some adult beverages in celebration/remembrance of her. So today I will be taking my licks as they come. They are well deserved. You can bet your ass this mistake will never be made again because I will be heading over to the Bass Factory Outlet here in a bit to pick myself up some deal sleds to live permanently in the cab of the ole’ pickup. I’ve never felt more embarrassed and I hope to never bring shame upon myself the likes of this ever again. Pray for me, because it is going to be a long day..

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Cush

Mainer born and raised. Boston sports. Miller Lites. Let's get drunk and eat chicken fingers.

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